by Gungor Music
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Wednesday, July 21, 2010
God is not a white Man
by Gungor Music
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Monday, July 12, 2010
It Is Time To Expose My Father Publicly...
By Samuel Mathew, http://gracewalkgroupnj.blogspot.com/
It is time to expose my father publicly, for who he really is. This is my father, who gave life to me.
As far as my memory goes back, my father was always interested in changing my behavior. He would always nitpick on every little thing I would do. He would constantly ‘convict’ me of everything that I did wrong. He would always keep nagging at me to do the things that he thought I should be doing. He used to have a big rod, just itching to use it, every time I fell out of line. At other times, he would hang over my head, the fear of throwing me into the ‘fire’ in bonfire pit in our backyard. Thus he would scare me into obeying his rules and commands.
As the years went by, the constant threatening and terror of my father kept me in line. This had such an effect on me that before I did anything ‘fun’ in life, I would consider how far I could go without crossing the line drawn by my father. I would indulge in those things to the point that I would be very close to violating his rules, yet not violating them. Once in a while he used to remind me that it was all out of love for me. Fear and torment kept me obeying his rules.
After my father had given me his list of rules, he would often test me by orchestrating some circumstances or situations (he called them “trials”), to display my ‘true nature’ and to see ‘what was in my heart’. He said that these “trials” were to ‘humble’ me or in other words ‘humiliate’ me. At other times, when he saw that there were ‘unsanctified natures’ in me, and despite his repeated admonishments there was no change in me, he would go to the extreme of inflicting severe physical pain. Once he broke my bones by throwing me in front of a speeding car. At another time he brought an illness on me by poisoning my food. At other times he would break things that were dear to me like my bicycle. To make it worse, he often used my idol worshipper neighbor (agent of satan) as his accomplice or agent to bring these ‘trials’ and ‘temptations’ to prove me and build my character.
Talking about gifts, on the very rare occasions that I got something from him, they were not really gifts, because I had to ‘earn’ them. In the midst of my ‘wilderness’ like life, some of these so called ‘gifts’ were like ‘salvation’ for me. But such ‘salvation’ like gifts were given to me on the condition that I behave and keep his rules, if not, he would take these saving gifts from me. I would lose them for eternity. Vacations brought me rapturous joy and it was like heaven for me. But he also threatened me that if I did not live up to his rules and measured up to his standards, I would be ‘left behind’ home alone on our next vacation trip to suffer torture from our demon-possessed neighbor.
This was my greatest fear of all. I couldn’t even imagine being ‘left behind’ in a house haunted by my demonic neighbor. So I would try my best to keep all the “I’s” dotted and the “t’s” crossed. If I messed up, I had to keep an account of those things and at the end of the day with great guilt and shame I approached my father with the list. I had to beg, wail and plead with him to forgive all my misdeeds. Sometimes he would tell me that I had to forgo my meals, in other words ‘fast’, and do a thorough job of searching my life for every rotten thing I had done and every command that I had disobeyed. I had to make a commitment that I would turn from my ways or ‘repent’ and after much begging and pleading I was allowed to sup at the table.
This was the same modus operandi for even getting him to provide for me, protect me and getting my needs met. I used to wake up in the middle of the nights and cry out to him in my heart to grant my requests. I made sure that I had done everything I could have possibly done to obtain his favor. I used to have set appointed times in the day, usually once in the morning and once before going to bed, to make my requests known to him. I would butter him up by heaping praises on him. I would say such things to him that I thought would press his right buttons. Sometimes he would act deaf, so I had to raise my voice and cry out to him. I had to use the right salutations when I addressed him like, “loving, most adorable, precious, your majesty, and highly exalted father.” At other times, I had to get 50 other people to join me and convince him to grant my request.
Such was my relationship with my father, or lack of thereof. Can you imagine having such a life? Everything that I have described above is pure fiction. But yet, this is exactly how religion has portrayed and misrepresented our loving heavenly father to be. We attribute to Him, characteristics that match that of an evil, proud, impatient, angry, rude, narcissistic, masochistic person, which is nothing but the nature of the devil. Some people attribute a split personality or schizophrenia to Him. That is not how my heavenly papa is!
Our heavenly father is love. He is primarily interested in having a relationship with you, not how he can change you or not even in what you can do for Him. He is after your heart, not after your service. Once that connection happens between His heart and your heart, the Christian life will flow effortlessly. Everything you do will be the fruit of a loving relationship with him, not because of fear of going to hell or not making it in the rapture. It won’t be about mindless religious duties and following rules out of fear, but out of love for our daddy. Religion will use fear to control and manipulate you. I challenge you to meditate on these things and be honest with yourselves – is it a religion that you are following or is it a relationship based on love with our heavenly father?
It is time to expose my father publicly, for who he really is. This is my father, who gave life to me.
As far as my memory goes back, my father was always interested in changing my behavior. He would always nitpick on every little thing I would do. He would constantly ‘convict’ me of everything that I did wrong. He would always keep nagging at me to do the things that he thought I should be doing. He used to have a big rod, just itching to use it, every time I fell out of line. At other times, he would hang over my head, the fear of throwing me into the ‘fire’ in bonfire pit in our backyard. Thus he would scare me into obeying his rules and commands.
As the years went by, the constant threatening and terror of my father kept me in line. This had such an effect on me that before I did anything ‘fun’ in life, I would consider how far I could go without crossing the line drawn by my father. I would indulge in those things to the point that I would be very close to violating his rules, yet not violating them. Once in a while he used to remind me that it was all out of love for me. Fear and torment kept me obeying his rules.
After my father had given me his list of rules, he would often test me by orchestrating some circumstances or situations (he called them “trials”), to display my ‘true nature’ and to see ‘what was in my heart’. He said that these “trials” were to ‘humble’ me or in other words ‘humiliate’ me. At other times, when he saw that there were ‘unsanctified natures’ in me, and despite his repeated admonishments there was no change in me, he would go to the extreme of inflicting severe physical pain. Once he broke my bones by throwing me in front of a speeding car. At another time he brought an illness on me by poisoning my food. At other times he would break things that were dear to me like my bicycle. To make it worse, he often used my idol worshipper neighbor (agent of satan) as his accomplice or agent to bring these ‘trials’ and ‘temptations’ to prove me and build my character.
Talking about gifts, on the very rare occasions that I got something from him, they were not really gifts, because I had to ‘earn’ them. In the midst of my ‘wilderness’ like life, some of these so called ‘gifts’ were like ‘salvation’ for me. But such ‘salvation’ like gifts were given to me on the condition that I behave and keep his rules, if not, he would take these saving gifts from me. I would lose them for eternity. Vacations brought me rapturous joy and it was like heaven for me. But he also threatened me that if I did not live up to his rules and measured up to his standards, I would be ‘left behind’ home alone on our next vacation trip to suffer torture from our demon-possessed neighbor.
This was my greatest fear of all. I couldn’t even imagine being ‘left behind’ in a house haunted by my demonic neighbor. So I would try my best to keep all the “I’s” dotted and the “t’s” crossed. If I messed up, I had to keep an account of those things and at the end of the day with great guilt and shame I approached my father with the list. I had to beg, wail and plead with him to forgive all my misdeeds. Sometimes he would tell me that I had to forgo my meals, in other words ‘fast’, and do a thorough job of searching my life for every rotten thing I had done and every command that I had disobeyed. I had to make a commitment that I would turn from my ways or ‘repent’ and after much begging and pleading I was allowed to sup at the table.
This was the same modus operandi for even getting him to provide for me, protect me and getting my needs met. I used to wake up in the middle of the nights and cry out to him in my heart to grant my requests. I made sure that I had done everything I could have possibly done to obtain his favor. I used to have set appointed times in the day, usually once in the morning and once before going to bed, to make my requests known to him. I would butter him up by heaping praises on him. I would say such things to him that I thought would press his right buttons. Sometimes he would act deaf, so I had to raise my voice and cry out to him. I had to use the right salutations when I addressed him like, “loving, most adorable, precious, your majesty, and highly exalted father.” At other times, I had to get 50 other people to join me and convince him to grant my request.
Such was my relationship with my father, or lack of thereof. Can you imagine having such a life? Everything that I have described above is pure fiction. But yet, this is exactly how religion has portrayed and misrepresented our loving heavenly father to be. We attribute to Him, characteristics that match that of an evil, proud, impatient, angry, rude, narcissistic, masochistic person, which is nothing but the nature of the devil. Some people attribute a split personality or schizophrenia to Him. That is not how my heavenly papa is!
Our heavenly father is love. He is primarily interested in having a relationship with you, not how he can change you or not even in what you can do for Him. He is after your heart, not after your service. Once that connection happens between His heart and your heart, the Christian life will flow effortlessly. Everything you do will be the fruit of a loving relationship with him, not because of fear of going to hell or not making it in the rapture. It won’t be about mindless religious duties and following rules out of fear, but out of love for our daddy. Religion will use fear to control and manipulate you. I challenge you to meditate on these things and be honest with yourselves – is it a religion that you are following or is it a relationship based on love with our heavenly father?
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